Local Flavor

Though they are on the garage-rock-leaning Siltbreeze imprint, Blues Control opt for a more expansive blend of instrumental, machine-tinged psychedelic rock.

One of the many scuzzy-sounding bands toiling in and around New York City at the moment, Blues Control is the Queens-based duo of Russ Waterhouse and Lea Cho. Unlike most of their peers operating in some form of lo-fi punk, Blues Control have their sights on a more expansive sound, a kind of homespun blend of instrumental, machine-tinged psychedelic rock. Though stylistically dissimilar, they do share these acts' affinity for stripped-down, hissy sonics, making the band a sensible fit at boutique noise-pop imprint Siltbreeze. Local Flavor, their second full-length and first for the label, is an ambitious offering, a half-hour ride through murky textures built from electronics and traditional instrumentation.

Blues Control are not a pop band (far from it, in fact), and they don't seem especially concerned about hooks or melody. While the four songs on Local Flavor-- which strung together, comprise one gradually expanding instrumental piece-- may not find much of an audience outside of committed fans of noise and drone, the album's grainy assemblage of submerged mood music could represent a welcome addition to the latter's record collection.

Local Flavor's tracks are built simply, usually on a foundation of Cho's keyboards or a modest drum-machine pitter-patter, on top of which Waterhouse embellishes with expressive guitar playing and additional electronics. With trumpet assistance from recent It Guy Kurt Vile, opener "Good Morning" is the most straightforward track, a lo-fi reimagining of the sludgy psych-rock perfected by Californians Comets on Fire, but it's the slower, dub-tinged pieces here that work best. The album's two best cuts are its last-- the gurgling "Tangier" and extended outro "On Through the Night"-- and on these Cho and Waterhouse home in on a dark, disquieting tone. Here, the music sounds like it's bubbling up from and evil underground, a burial place that holds the secrets of past atrocities.

Though they succeed in sketching these gloomy portraits, there's a detachment about these songs that feels at odds with their other aim, which is creating a feeling of druggy ambience. The best ambient music envelops its listener, and Local Flavor ultimately lacks that sense of inhabitability. (I will say that I find this true of most guitar acts attempting a similar style; this music is difficult to build organically-- part of the reason so many of the finest ambient records are electronic.) It does seem Blues Control might benefit from grander sonics, since it's even harder to make something truly hum out of basic instrumentation. Still, in a scene with too much overlap, one has to commend the band for working far outside the status quo, even if Local Flavor feels like an album that a few will love and a larger majority will find head-scratchingly opaque.